The Adventures of Merry at Edoras
by Lady Sezza
Summary: Takes place when Ganalf takes Pippin away to Minas Tirth. Merry gets bored when he goes, so he starts playing some tricks on the inhabitants of Meduseld to lighten up the atmosphere.


Ok, firstly, this is by no means a serious story. and I've changed a few bits as well. Gríma Wormtongue is at Edoras, for some reason. I think I'm going to need him later :-D. There are probably more continuity problems, but it is fan fiction, so I don't think it really matters. Also, I've stolen the first bit from the Return of the King (obviously). I think that's it.  
  
____________________________________________  
  
The Adventures of Merry at Edoras  
  
"But...we'll see each other again, won't we?"  
  
Pippin's voice was frightened as he sat upon the magnificent white horse, Shadowfax, in front of Gandalf. Merry backed away slowly, his eyes brimming with tears.  
  
"I don't know." He replied, his voice trembling. "I don't know what's going to happen."  
  
Pippin stared at Merry in shock. He was young - he had not known the devastation his looking into the Palantír would bring upon himself and his friends. He had only been curious. But now, he began to understand the seriousness of their plight.  
  
"Merry..." he pressed, but his words were cut short. Gandalf was becoming impatient.  
  
"Ride, Shadowfax," muttered Gandalf. "Show us the meaning of haste."  
  
And with that, Shadowfax stormed out of the stable with almost unbelievable speed.  
  
"Merry!" Pippin wailed back, but there were no more words to say. Shadowfax would not stop now. Merry stood alone in the stable for a moment, and then he ran outside to dash recklessly up onto the top of a small wooden watchtower, not even bothering to stop and apologize to a guard he knocked down on the way. He gazed sadly after the distant figures of Gandalf and Pippin receding into the distance. There was certainly something in the rumours he had heard of the speed of Shadowfax. He already seemed to be quite a long way away - but perhaps it was just the flatness of the plain deceiving his eyes. Aragorn, who had followed Merry up the watchtower, laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He understood - he had known how close the two Hobbits had been.  
  
***  
  
It had been a few hours since Gandalf had departed with Pippin, and Merry sat glumly on an overlarge chair in the Golden Hall. He knew quite well that he should be feeling honoured to be sitting there at all, but at this present time, he just missed Pippin. There was nothing to do at Meduseld - nothing that would interest Merry anyhow, and now he could not even talk and laugh with Pippin to pass the hours. He was feeling very dreary indeed. He sat kicking his heels against the legs of the chair and staring blankly up at the intricate carvings on the ceiling for a few minutes, before Théoden glanced up at him and laughed.  
  
"I am sorry, Meriadoc," he said apologetically in the polite manner that always fascinated Merry. "There is not a great deal here to occupy a young Hobbit, now your friend has gone."  
  
"No, my Lord," answered Merry, trying to inject a tone of interest into his voice. "Your hall is a wonderful, beautiful place with surprises that seem to lurk in wait around every corner. But you are not mistaken. I shall miss dear Pippin sorely."  
  
"I am sorry to hear it." Sighed Théoden. "The incident with the Palantír was regrettable, but perhaps, unavoidable. but let us not dwell on the matter. Why do you not go and explore my halls? I am sure there will be something here that will catch your interest."  
  
Merry doubted this, but nevertheless, he accepted the King's invitation gratefully.  
  
"Thank-you, my Lord. I will go. We should all be wise to use our free hours productively. A day may soon come when we have no time for leisure."  
  
Théoden nodded gravely, and did not laugh.  
  
"It is true." He said. "Black days may indeed be ahead of us. But go now, and do as I bid. And be back in time for us to dine together! There is a gong - you will no doubt remember it from last night."  
  
Merry nodded and took his leave. Outside the Golden Hall, it was cold. Merry shivered slightly - but it was not unwelcoming. He thought that if the torch brackets were lit, it would be quite cheerful. He wandered up and down the corridors, stopping occasionally to peer inside a room. Most of them were full, with books and suchlike. The upper rooms he supposed were the chambers of the inhabitants of Meduseld for they were all locked save the bathrooms. He paused by one of these which he found particularly large and impressive and then walked inside. In the middle of the room was a bath that looked big enough to swim in set into the floor. At the far end of the room was an enormous toilet on a small dais. Merry chortled slightly when he imagined himself trying to climb up onto it to relieve himself. At the foot of the dais, there was a small wooden bucket with a mop propped up inside it. He stared at it in delight, and then glanced at the door. Its top was broad - quite wide enough to stand a bucket on. Merry smiled gleefully and picked up the bucket, then discarded the mop. He bent over the side of the huge bath and twisted the cold tap on with difficulty - it was stiff. He held the bucket underneath it until it was half full with water. He straightened himself up and looked up at the top of the door - it was far too high for him to reach.  
  
"Bother it," he mumbled angrily. "I need something to stand on..."  
  
He cast his eye around the room for a stool, and to his pleasure, he saw a step ladder in the corner. He dragged it over to the door, and opened it out. He then picked up the bucket, and standing precariously on the top step, he carefully balanced it on top of the door. Pleased with his skill, he climbed back down the ladder, and was about to put it away when he heard approaching footsteps from one of the surrounding corridors. Cursing silently to himself, he hurriedly replaced the ladder in the corner, and dashed into an unlocked room, just opposite. Peering through a crack in the door, he saw Éomer trundling up the passage, whistling a bouncy little tune with his hands in his pockets. Stifling a giggle, Merry watched as Éomer walked unsuspectingly into the bathroom and kicked the door shut. There was a loud crash accompanied by an alarmed shout from Éomer and the sound of water being splashed all over the place. Almost immediately, the door swung open again, and Merry found himself holding his sides with suppressed hysteria as he beheld the vacant look of surprise on the soggy Eomer's face. He was holding the bucket in one hand, and his hair was dripping wet. At that moment, Éowyn came striding past, with her usual sense of purpose. She stopped in surprise when she saw Éomer standing framed in the bathroom door with a large puddle of water behind him.  
  
"What, in Middle-earth happened to you?" she inquired of him politely. "Hang on, let me guess - either you got caught in a rainstorm..." she cast a doubtful eye over her shoulder at the blazing sunshine streaming in through the window. "...Or you didn't reach the toilet in time."  
  
"Very funny", said Éomer sarcastically. "Neither. Actually, I was just wondering what you could tell me about this!" He dramatically revealed the bucket which he had been concealing behind his back. Éowyn squinted at it.  
  
"It's a bucket," she informed him.  
  
"I can see it's a bucket," he said through gritted teeth. "The point is, what was it doing balanced on top of the bathroom door?"  
  
"I don't know..." she shrugged. "Bird-watching, maybe. But anyway, I can't stop. I have a previous engagement."  
  
"I want to know who - " Éomer began, enraged, then he stopped short. "What previous engagement?"  
  
"It is no concern of yours." She replied haughtily. "But unfortunately, unavoidable. Farewell, my sweet brother!"  
  
And she continued on up the corridor, leaving Éomer staring after her, fuming most amusingly. After a few seconds, he turned and went back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Merry, still tittering to himself, crept out of the room he had been eavesdropping in and skipped gaily down the passage. He halted as he heard a slight sound in one of the rooms. He peered curiously through the keyhole, and grinned as he saw Éowyn inside, sitting on the floor surrounded by cards, engrossed in a game of Solitaire.  
  
***  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


End file.
